Rescuer
by Boann
Summary: 2nd in the Rescue Trilogy. It is now time for Alan to be the rescuer, but how can he do that when memories of his accident still haunt him?
1. Chapter 1

"_Guys this isn't funny," Alan grumbled._

_The room was dark and he could barely see the floor in front of him. His brothers were in here somewhere, he knew it. He could hear them._

"_Come on Allie!"Gordon called, mockingly using his pet name as a child._

"_You're not still scared of the dark are you?" called Scott._

_The others laughed. Although Alan couldn't see them, he saw flashes of their smiling faces in his head._

"_I am not scared of the dark!" Alan retorted, taking another step forward._

"_Come and find us then!" called Virgil._

"_Come on, sprout! Thunderbirds aren't scared," Scott crooned._

"_Guys this isn't funny, where are you?" asked Alan, becoming impatient. He couldn't see anything. How was he supposed to know where his brother's were? Gingerly he took two more steps forward, thankful to find floor underneath his feet._

_Suddenly a light appeared from the ceiling, illuminating his brothers, who were ten feet in front of him. All of them were grinning._

"_Come on, Al. Just a few more steps," Scott encouraged, jokingly._

"_Come on Alan, come on!" Gordon insisted, whistling to him like he was a dog._

"_You guys are jerks," Alan moaned. "I can get to you, no problem!"_

_Scott held his arms out invitingly. Virgil and Gordon were grinning like Cheshire cats. But John wasn't. Alan stopped when he realised that John hadn't said anything all this time. His older brother was looking directly at him with concern, his arms folded. _

"_What is it?" Alan tried to asked, but his words were drowned out by his brother's calls. John remained silent._

_I've had enough of this, Alan thought, taking another step forward. John's eyes suddenly flashed and he shook his head in warning. Alan suddenly became very reluctant to move, and his brother were becoming angry._

"_Stupid kid!"_

"_Knew you didn't have it in you!"_

"_What's Dad going to think of his little Thunderbird now?"_

"_Shut up! I can do it!" Alan yelled back at them. He stepped forward twice more, intent on reaching them. _

_Suddenly John screamed. "Alan!"_

_Alan stopped, but it was too late. The floor beneath him disappeared and he fell. His brothers laughed with delight as he continued to fall. John's disappointed face offered no help._

_He was falling. He began to scream, knowing what was about to happen. It had happened so many times. He'd been there too many times to forget. Yet he never remembered until it was too late. A wave of ice engulfed him, paralysing him as he hit the floor of a familiar basement with a loud 'Crack!'_

_Snow, or at least what he thought was snow, began falling from the hole through which he'd fallen. It was an avalanche. He tried to move, but couldn't. He could only scream as he was buried alive..._

Alan lurched awake. It took him a few minutes to figure out where he was. For a moment he thought he was back in the dark room, but the moonlight filtering through his balcony doors illuminated his own bedroom brought recognition. He was tangled in his bed sheets, lying awkwardly on the floor. He was drenched with an icy cold sweat and shivering.

Clumsily he got up and turned his lamp on. He needed the light. He was freezing, though it wasn't a very cold night. But what bothered him the most was that he was alone. He ran to his bedroom door and threw it open, looking out into the dark hallway.

_It must be late_, he thought. He walked down to the kitchen, turning on every light as he went. He poured himself a glass of water and sculled it, before choking and coughing.

_God, Alan, calm down!_ He cursed. _It was a dream._

It was an all too familiar dream. That damn basement was like a black hole. It was a place where he was always alone and never given any comfort.

He looked outside into the night, listening to the sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, allowing it to calm him.

He wondered if Gordon was still awake. _Stupid question. He's probably bouncing off the walls_, he thought. Gordon's shift in Thunderbird 5 had not yet come to an end, and the after two weeks, Gordon was entering what his family called the "Ping Pong Phase". As it described, Gordon's state of boredom had become so severe that he could no longer sit still for five minutes.

Knowing he wouldn't get any sleep, Alan made up his mind and trudged towards his father's office.

TBTBTBTBTBTB

_The Next Day..._

"Gordon, where is he?"

From Thunderbird 5, Jeff's second youngest son looked up at his father on the screen of the communication line.

Gordon looked up from the document he'd be rattling stats off for the past five minutes, a shadow lurking behind his eyes. "I don't know," he replied casually, only appearing to know half of what his father was talking about.

Jeff leaned back in his chair and sighed, raising an eyebrow at his son. When it came to practical jokes, Gordon could put on a mask of innocence that could fool everyone. But when it came to the little brother he'd always kept tucked under his wing, the mask became opaque. And Gordon knew this.

"He's fine, Dad. He just needs some space," Gordon finally relented. "He's been through a lot."

"You've talked to him?" Jeff asked, hopeful.

Gordon shrugged. "A little bit early this morning. But there's nothing to report. It's the same every time. He asks me questions, then when I try to delve a little deeper, he shuts down."

Jeff frowned. Lately the behaviour of his youngest son was worrying him. After the accident at Wharton Academy, which had left Alan trapped in the basement of a collapsing gymnasium, he'd been quieter than normal. After being rescued by his brothers, Alan had spent a few days in hospital, then come home to Tracy Island for the remainder of the term. The media was scrutinising Wharton Academy and Jeff hadn't wanted Alan to be caught in the crossfire or exploited by the press. It was a decision Jeff did not regret.

At the hospital, he knew it was natural for a person to be in shock after such an ordeal. But after a while it became apparent that Alan had held on to his experience. The usually boisterous, untameable boy had become melancholy and obedient. Jeff had records of excessive transmissions to Thunderbird 5, where Gordon was serving his shift in space, and it didn't take him long to deduce who had made the many calls.

"Where can I find him?" Jeff asked.

"You probably won't if he wants to be alone," Gordon replied evasively.

"Where?" Jeff questioned firmly.

Gordon looked reluctant, but eventually replied. "Our Place."

Jeff nodded, satisfied, and disconnected. He set off and didn't stop until he reached the location his sons' affectionately called Our Place.

They had discovered it together soon after moving to the island. It was a small pocket tucked into the side of a cove. Rocks smoothed by waves littered the area, providing stepping stones to a small cave. It wasn't huge, and its entrance was easily swallowed by tidal waters at a certain time of day. It was legitimate to say that Our Place was hazardous, but the boys were 

aware of the dangers and took appropriate caution. It was their haven whenever they sought solitude. But at this moment Jeff felt that solitude wasn't what Alan needed.

Holding his shoes in one hand, he carefully made his way over the rocks to Alan, who was sitting at the mouth of the cave.

Alan's knees were bent with his elbows resting on them and his hands were clasping his shoulders. He stared into space, until Jeff reached him.

Alan looked up at Jeff like a dog would look at it's master before receiving a beating.

"Gordon said you might be here," Jeff said, sitting down next to him.

Alan nodded but didn't reply.

Jeff tried again. "I know you boys come here when you want to be alone, but I also know that you desire solitude because something is bothering you."

Alan's Adam's apple bobbed and his eyes clouded, but again he remained silent. Convinced he had hit the mark, Jeff used the silence to examine his son. He did not seem to be in a stupor or be in any pain. But he was still anything but fine. Jeff made up his mind.

"Come on," he encouraged, pulling them both to their feet. "Walk with me."

He hoped that the slow walk back to the house would encourage Alan to talk, but only silence spoke. They bypassed the pool, which was alive with the activities of the rest of the family, and into the kitchen, where Onaha greeted them with a smile.

Jeff put a hand on their housekeeper's shoulder. "Onaha, why don't you go and sit by the pool for a while? Put your feet up."

Onaha chuckled. "I don't have the need for a break, Mr Tracy," she assured, before looking between father and son knowingly. "But I will take some refreshments out to your boys."

Jeff felt a wave of gratitude for Onaha's discretion, and encouraged Alan to take a seat on of the stools by the bench. Jeff began making them both a cheese toastie. It was a favourite comfort food of the family. "So, tell me what's bothering you," Jeff encouraged.

Alan leaned on the bench, folding his arms. "I'm fine, Dad. I'm fine, I just..." he trailed off, shrugging.

"I know it has something to do with the accident at Wharton," said Jeff, laying cheese on the toasted bread.

"I'm trying to forget that," Alan cut him off, sounding unnerved.

"Don't try and forget it, Alan. It's not going to disappear," Jeff said firmly. Maybe he was being a bit harsh, but he needed to get through to Alan. If his son held on to something like this, he was in for a rough time. "Why don't you tell me what happened while you were down there?"

"There's nothing much to tell," Alan replied. "It was cold. It was a little scary."

"How scary?" Jeff pushed, eager to get to the issue. He flipped the toasties over.

He must have pushed too hard, because Alan squirmed. "Why are you asking? You know what that stuff is like. You see it all the time on rescues."

"I've seen it, that's true, but I've never felt it. I've always been the rescuer, never the rescued," Jeff told him.

"So what am I? Some guinea pig for you to interrogate?"Alan snapped. "Do you want to find out what it's like to feel like you're going to die?"

Jeff stopped in his tracks. He had never realised that Alan had been that scared. He'd always assumed that Alan's experience from rescues would prepare him; that he would know his family would always rescue him. The reality hurt.

"You're not a guinea pig. You're my son and I'm worried about you. You seem to have taken this hard and I can see that it's not doing you any good."

Alan avoided his gaze. "Like you said, you've never been the victim. You don't know what it is like," he mumbled.

"Then help me to understand what you're going through, so that I can help," Jeff implored. Alan looked down nervously. Jeff pulled a toastie out of the grill and lay it on a plate in front of Alan. "Here," he offered. "Let's go and sit down in the living room."

"Dad?" called a voice. Jeff and Alan spun around to see John jogging casually down the stairs. The blond man stopped in his tracks when he saw Jeff and Alan in the kitchen with cheese toasties. Jeff could see John putting the two together and realising his bad timing. "I'll come back later," he said.

Bu it was too late. Alan used the opportunity. "I'm not really hungry," he said, hopping down from the stool and running past John up the stairs.

John cringed. "Sorry," he apologised. "There's a call for you in your office from Boston."

Jeff sighed. If it was from Tracy Enterprises he had to take the call.

"Do you want me to take over?" John offered.

Couldn't hurt, Jeff thought. "Sure," he said, handing John the cheese toastie on his way upstairs. "Tread carefully."

TBTBTBTBTBTB

_Is it possible to despise loneliness and at the same time not want anything else?_ Alan mused as he lay on his bed.

Leaning against the headboard, he gingerly stretched his knee. It had been dislocated during the accident and was healing well, but the long walk to Our Place had put too much strain on it. Virgil wouldn't be happy if he knew Alan hadn't been taking it easy, so Alan wasn't going to bother asking for pain killers and draw unwanted attention to himself.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Alan?"

Obviously he had failed either way.

He didn't answer but he didn't have to wait long until John gently let himself in. His older brother gave him a warm smile. "Hey, sprout," he greeted.

"Hey," Alan replied, attempting to return the smile. "What's up?"

John held up the toastie as a waiter would present a first class dish. "I have been instructed to bring this to you," he said with a grin. "One...burnt cheese toastie," he grimaced. "Dad hasn't improved, then?"

This time Alan's smile was genuine. "Nope, apparently not," he replied as John sat down next to him.

"Poor guy," mused John, examining the scorched toast as he would a lab specimen. "Possibly one of the greatest engineering minds in the world and he still can't use a grill."

Alan chuckled with his brother.

"So," John sighed, setting the plate down on Alan's bedside table. "How are you doing?"

Alan nodded. "Good," he replied. "Knee's getting there."

John smiled. "That's good. When do Tintin and Fermat finish school for the term?"

Alan thought. "One week tomorrow."

John nodded. "Well, I think Brains is planning a surprise trip to Thunderbird 5 for Fermat for some father and son time. Mum's the word," John revealed with a gleam in his eye. "And Tintin will be spending a few days after Christmas in England with Lady P."

"Yeah," Alan smiled. "I think Lady P's taking Tintin under her wing so she's not corrupted by us men."

John laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised. So if Brains' plans don't change, I'll be down for Christmas. By the way, what do you want for Christmas?"

Alan smiled sheepishly. "You don't have to get me anything," he said.

John waved a finger at him. "Don't encourage my procrastination," he said. "Being in space has been the perfect excuse to avoid Christmas shopping, but now I actually have to get my butt up to the mainland."

That made Alan smile again. He liked this. John and he had formed some kind of special connection over the past two weeks. It was something that hadn't happened before. The two boys were complete opposites of each. But lately their ying had been each other's yang. John didn't make Alan feel uptight, even though he suspected the course this conversation would take. Maybe it was because John had been there when...

Alan unconsciously shrunk into his headboard at the thought of regurgitating those memories. It must have caught John's attention, because his brother asked. "You okay?"

Alan hastily nodded, but he knew he hadn't fooled John.

"Alan," John said, gently. "I know you've been thinking a lot about the accident at Wharton. But I just want you to know that you don't have to go through it alone. We're in this together, all of us, and we're all ready to listen to you."

It was so unlike himself, but Alan felt his eyes welling with tears. He looked down at his hands for a distraction, anxiously rubbing them, but John put a hand on top of his hands to still them. Alan cursed when a tear escaped and landed on John's hand. There was no avoiding it now.

John moved closer and held an arm around his shoulder, but Alan squirmed away, composing himself. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"No, you're not," John replied, his voice still soft.

Now desperate to get away, Alan swung himself off the bed and out of his brother's embrace, ducking into his bathroom. Why did he freak out like this whenever someone mentioned the accident? He splashed water on his face and dried it, washing away the evidence of rising emotions. He timed it well. John had followed him and now leant against the door frame.

Alan tried to ignore him, dabbing his face unnecessarily with the towel. He stopped when John said, "Alan, please. Talk to me."

He leant on the sink. He couldn't talk. He didn't want to face it again. He relived it in his dreams often enough. He had to be strong. But something inside him desperately wanted to break. To give in and crawl into somebody's embrace seemed so easy. But what kind of a Thunderbird would do that? What kind of a Tracy would do that?

He turned to face John. "Look, I appreciate your concern. But I'll be okay," he assured with no confidence. But it wanted to come out so badly. Maybe John wouldn't laugh... "It's just that whenever-"

The sound of the emergency alarm interrupted him, screeching through the hall outside. Both brothers exchanged a glance, but before John could say anything, Alan ducked out of the room and sped down the hall to his father's study.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again!**

**Thankyou for your patience with this chapter.**

**As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome!**

**Boann.**

"This is a big one, boys," Jeff told them over the comm on Thunderbirds 1 and 2. He had insisted that they didn't delay in launching the Thunderbirds, and told them he'd brief them on the way.

"A new mining development in Australia has gone badly. Some misplaced explosions caused several tunnels to collapse during the midday shift, just as lunch began. Fifteen miners were still working through their break and were trapped. Rescue services have managed to get six men out, but the others are too far in to be rescued. The terrain is still extremely unstable," Jeff elaborated.

"Scott, when you arrive, set up Mobile Control and get as much information about the schematics of the area as you can. Virgil, John and Alan will take the Mole and rescue the miners. Time isn't on our side this time boys, so let's get in and get out," their father instructed.

"When is time ever on our side?" mumbled Scott through the comm.

The others silently agreed.

It didn't take them long to reach the area. From there they worked as a strictly coordinated unit. Having John with them did not disrupt them from organising themselves and after only minutes at the scene, The Mole was prepped for launch and tunnelling through the ground.

It was then Alan's butterflies appeared. They were going underground. This was all he needed. But he had to suck it up. If he freaked, he could ruin the mission. _Just going in and getting out, that's what Dad said, _he told himself. The Mole shuddered a little as they pressed deeper.

From the pilot's seat, Virgil analysed the schematics Scott had given them. "Approaching the first tunnel," he announced.

Next to him, John kept a close eye on the surveying. "Virgil, alter course left by two degrees. There's a support in our path that we'd rather not lose."

"FAB. Altering course left by two degrees," Virgil confirmed.

They docked and donned helmets, stepping out carefully.

John flashed his torch around the tunnel. It was a mess. Two beams had cracked and fallen on to each other, forming a triangle. The beam the Mole had narrowly missed was providing a little stability.

"Watch your step," John told them as he led the way, flashing his torch in every direction. Alan unconsciously recognised his brother's movements. As the leader he was looking for any sign of movement in the structure that would suggest another cave-in.

"Mole to Mobile Control," John called through his radio. "Scott, we've made it into Tunnel 4B. We need your eyes."

From the surface, Scott was looking at a detailed blueprint of the tunnel system. "FAB, John. About fifty paces ahead should be where two miners were scheduled to work. If they tried to get out as the tunnel collapsed, they would have run in your direction. They should be close."

"FAB," replied John, gracefully moving forward.

Alan carefully followed his brother. Virgil stayed close alongside him. Suddenly John held up a hand and stopped. Alan knew his brother was listening. After a few seconds, they continued forward. Soon their torches revealed a massive blockage. A beam lay diagonally across the shaft, holding dozens of large rocks at bay. What debris had escaped now lay across a man just in front of them. The man had propped himself up on his stomach and was using one hand to shield his eyes from the light.

"Mole to Mobile Control. We have found one miner in front of a major obstruction. The tunnel from here is completely blocked," John reported.

Virgil strode ahead of John and Alan with the med pack and knelt beside the miner, inspecting him. "Sir, are you okay?" Virgil asked.

The man, who was covered in dust, coughed and managed to splutter, "My leg. It's busted."

Virgil scooted over to examine the appendage. John knelt beside the man and put a hand on his back. "Just stay still. Our medic is going to look at the damage."

The man coughed again. "Peter, my mate...he was behind me. He pushed me in front just before...It came down on top of him, the whole ceiling. I got hit...fell over. My leg was stuck. I managed to wriggle out but...wriggled too hard and...bloody hurts. I couldn't turn around..." the rest was lost in a bout of harsh coughing.

Virgil looked up. "John, get him on oxygen. I'm going to have to immobilise this leg before we move. Compound fracture," he instructed.

"FAB," John replied, placing a mask over the man's face as Virgil got to work.

Virgil passed Alan whilst fetching his med bag. Alan nodded to the blockage ahead of them. "What about the other miner? Are we going to look for him?"

After a pause, Virgil shook his head. "There's no point," he replied softly.

"Mobile Control to The Mole. How is he?"

John looked expectantly at Virgil, who relayed. "He's injured, but alive."

"Scott, we're attempting to move him now and Virgil will give him a more thorough exam. If he's not in a critical condition, we'll keep searching for other survivors," John said. "The second miner died at the scene before we got here," he added, solemnly.

"FAB" was Scott's reply.

"Alan, I need you to give me a hand," John said.

Alan looked up, realising that he'd been staring at the wall of rock all through the conversation. A man's body was underneath all of that; crushed and twisted. Shaking these thoughts away, he took a deep breath and nodded, joining his brother. Together they rolled the miner onto a backboard and stabilised him. Working in the dark wasn't easy, and the pitiful light offered by the three torches wasn't easing Alan's nervousness. Virgil strapped the man on a stretcher and took him back to The Mole, where his diagnosis revealed nothing immediately life threatening.

Scott reported that the blockage before them was extensive and they'd have to manoeuvre The Mole around it to proceed.

After half an hour, they located eight more men, who'd managed to protect themselves from the cave in by hiding under a steel trolley. None were badly injured. By now, Alan was sweating under his helmet and wanting nothing more than to see daylight. _How can people work down here?_

The next area they were directed to was the major cavity within the mine. Or at least it had been. Virgil manoeuvred The Mole inside an adjoining tunnel so that they could examine the cavity from a more stable position. Inside the cavity, many of the walls were crumbling. The beams along the roof looked stable, but not strong enough to offer much support in an emergency. Water was leaking in from somewhere.

After making some calculated observations, John spoke up. "Okay, Alan, you stay in The Mole. Virg and I will look for survivors."

"No!" Alan exclaimed, surprising himself. One look at the cavern had made him want to curl under his seat, but a sudden protective impulse made him decide that he wasn't going to let John go in there without him.

"I'll come. Virgil can look after the miners in here," he said.

John and Virgil exchanged a look. Finally John nodded. "Stay close."

"I'll help Scott monitor for any shocks or geographical instability," Virgil told them as they stepped outside.

Together Alan and John cautiously stepped out of the tunnel and into the hollow. Although he was wearing his suit and helmet, Alan could feel the dampness and smell the stale air. Muddy water sloshed around his ankles.

"Hello!" called John. "Can anyone hear me?"

Alan obediently stayed quiet and strained his ears for any sound of response.

"Help! Is someone there?"

John and Alan both spun around and followed the voice.

"Sir, this is International Rescue. Stay where you are," John instructed.

"Thank Christ!" the man sobbed.

Their torches revealed his position. What they saw brought their stomachs to their throats.

The man lay on his back, his legs trapped under the remains of a rock slide, but that wasn't the worst of it. The man was pierced through the middle by what appeared to be a steel post.

John didn't appear to be bothered by the severity of the situation. He remained as calm and cool as always, kneeling beside the man. "Hello there. My name's John. What your name?"

"B...Br...Brian," the man winced.

Alan followed his brother's lead and knelt beside the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just take it easy. We'll get you out of here," he assured.

John removed several pieces of gauze and a roll of heavy bandage from the med bag. "Sir, I need you to listen carefully. I need to try and stem the bleeding from your abdomen. It will be painful, but it will buy us more time," he explained.

The man shakily nodded, as if he'd already accepted something. "S'alright, mate. I know," he said, gruffly.

John worked as quickly as he could. There was no point in being gentle. He smothered the area in gauze and then wrapped the bandage around the base of the pole where it entered his abdomen. Alan helped the process by holding the man down by the shoulders as he screamed. It was a procedure he knew from experience would save the man, but one he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to watching. By the end of it Alan didn't know who was shaking more; him or the miner.

"Will you be okay here?" John asked him. "I'm going to go and get the cutting gear."

"I'm fine," Alan replied. He was nervous, but his concern for the miner was preoccupying him from his claustrophobia.

John stood and began the careful walk back to The Mole.

Alan tried to keep the miner distracted. "So, how long have you been working here?" he asked.

"Th...Three months. Me and the family just moved up here," he replied.

"You have family?" he encouraged.

"Yeah," the man replied. "Fiona and the kids. Molly and...Molly and Jason."

"How old are you kids?" Alan asked.

"Mol's eight. Jason's thirteen," the miner groaned.

"Uh-oh, he's reached that stage," Alan said.

The man smiled. "Yeah. But he's a...good kid."

Alan's expression softened. "You know what, Brian? I think...I think Jason would be proud of you for holding on. Not many people could deal with...with this," he said.

Brian attempted a laugh. "You blokes sure do," he said.

Alan shook his head, spotting John heading back their way with the equipment. "Not all the time."

"What you guys do...it makes it all worth it, doesn't it?" Brian rasped.

Alan didn't get a chance to answer. Scott's voice bellowed in through his radio. "Mobile Control to The Mole. Evacuate immediately! Another rock slide has appeared right above your position. Take cover! Repeat: take cover!"

Virgil called. "John! Alan! Can you get to me?"

"We'll try!" replied John. "Alan! Move!"

Alan didn't budge. "We can't leave him here!" he protested.

"Alan, we can't move him without killing him. You have to get out of there!" John argued.

The ground began to tremble and a groaning noise came from above, but Alan still didn't move. He knew what it felt to be alone like this. He couldn't leave Brian. Apparently John's patience was at its end. His older brother grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. When Alan fought, Brian grabbed his ankle.

"Go, kid," he told him.

Alan paused again, then allowed himself to be pulled towards the Mole by John. They were being pelted by debris now. Chunks of rock rained down. The two brothers held their arms over their heads as they ran. A few metres before the tunnel's entrance, Alan looked back to see if Brian was still alright, and in not looking where he was going, he tripped. Pain lanced through his injured knee as he landed hard on the uneven ground. Ahead, John called his name and ran back to help him. Both of them froze when an immense boom radiated from above. Without warning the roof gave way and rock tumbled down. Alan tried to get to his feet, but found himself paralysed by the pain. The ceiling was going to come down right on top of him. In a split second John leapt to his side and pushed him backwards out of the way. Alan could only watch as the enormous amount of debris fell between him and his brother, covering the tunnel entrance. Amidst the confusion he saw John fall with a grunt.

"John!" Alan yelled as the last of the rubble fell, creating a wall between him and his brother.

"John!" Alan called again.

As the dust settled, he heard no reply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone!**

**I apologise for the delay in posting this chapter. Uni has just begun again, and I am currently rehearsing for two theatre productions, plus writing prac! Needless to say, I do not believe that the third installment of this trilogy, "Save Me", will be posted soon. But I will try my best to get it up in the next few weeks!**

**Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! You inspire me to continue!**

**Enjoy, **

**Boann**

For a few seconds Alan didn't move. He lay on the ground, propping himself on his elbows, staring at the wall before him.

With great difficulty, he staggered to his feet. "John!"

Again he received no reply. Instead he heard another sound; a groan behind him. He turned around, stupidly hoping that it was John, but it was only Brian. Numbly, Alan hobbled over to the man and collapsed beside him.

"You alright, mate?" Brian asked. The man was covered in a fresh layer of dust, but despite his position appeared to be alright.

Alan couldn't answer. He didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he had no plan, no idea and no motivation. He must have even lost his willingness to listen, because Scott's voice quite suddenly barked through the radio.

"Alan! Can you hear me? Come in!"

For his brother to be this loud and angry, he must have been calling for a while.

Alan tried to make his tongue work. "Yeah. I'm here."

"Thank God!" Scott exclaimed. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"

Alan managed to reply. "Not hurt." Tears welled in his eyes as he thought about how his brother had not been so lucky. "John..."

"That's what I was trying to tell you. John is okay," Scott told him, his voice not as harsh.

"John's hurt?" Alan repeated numbly. _And it was my fault_. _If I hadn't stopped...if I hadn't tripped...he was only trying to help me and..._

"Alan!" Scott interrupted. "You need to concentrate. I need to know exactly where you are."

_Where am I?_ Alan looked around for the first time. The cavity was definitely unstable by now. The roof was crackling threateningly and the water; there was more of it now. Alan was sitting in it up to his waist.

_Brian._

Alan looked at the man to see him lying next to him. Brian was trying to lift his head up, with great difficulty. The water was swirling around his ears. Alan knelt behind the man so that his head could rest on his knees. Brian gratefully acknowledged him.

"Scott, I need help. The miner is still alive, but he's trapped and water is leaking in from somewhere and rising fast," he reported.

"Alan," a new voice called. "This is Virgil in The Mole. How high is the water level? We may still have time to tunnel in."

Alan didn't understand. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"The Mole is an excavator, not a water probe. If the water gets to a certain level, we won't be able to get to you from here," Virgil explained.

_That would mean we're trapped_, Alan realised. _No! I can't do this! I can't die like this! I need air!_

"Alan!"

Alan snapped out of his panic, feeling hot tears running down his face.

"Alan, how high is the water?" Scott called.

Alan looked around. "About twenty inches," he replied, unsteadily.

Virgil cursed.

"What?" Alan stammered. "What's wrong?"

"Alan, you must understand. If we use The Mole to get into the cavity, it would be like pulling the plug out of a bath. The massive resistance from that much water would put too much pressure on The Mole," Scott explained.

"The Mole can tunnel through solid rock!" Alan exclaimed, hoping to prove them all wrong.

"Water and rock are very different, Alan," Virgil replied, a little too calmly. "Blades can't cut through liquid."

"Why don't you come through the wall?" Alan offered.

"The area is much too unstable. If we tunnelled directly through the wall of the cavity, we could cause the whole thing to collapse on top of you both," said Scott.

"What are we going to do?" Alan practically screamed.

"Hey!" Scott firmly snapped. "Keep your head on your shoulders, sprout. We're going to get you out. Virgil, return to Thunderbird 2 as fast as you can. I'm going to give Brains a call."

Alan tried to get his breathing under control. Scott was right. He was supposed to be the rescuer. He couldn't lose it.

"Let me know what has to happen," he told them, trying to steady is voice. "But we don't have much time. Brian can't last another ten minutes at this rate."

"FAB."

Brian suddenly grabbed Alan's arm. "Get back to your team, son. It's over."

Alan shook his head. "I'm not leaving unless you're coming with me."

Brian smiled. "That's the spirit," he grunted. "Face it. Even if your mates get in here, I'm not going anywhere in this state. Look at me."

Alan couldn't ignore his own doubts. Brian was trapped under rock and steel. The dirty water around his wound contained all kinds of bacteria. They wouldn't be able to see through the murk at what they were doing anyway. Moving him without causing further damage would be almost impossible.

_But we're the Thunderbirds. We can do anything._

"Just stay calm. Focus on breathing and tell me if the pain gets worse," Alan instructed the man. "They'll be here soon."

He hoped.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

"Are you going be okay?" Virgil asked his older brother for the tenth time.

From where he lay on the bed in Thunderbird 2's sickbay, John nodded stiffly. "Just get him out of there, Virgil."

After docking The Mole in the Pod, Virgil had whisked John up to the sickbay to tend to him whilst Scott arranged details of their plans to rescue their other brother.

It had been John who'd told Virgil not to reveal to Alan the extent of the injuries he'd sustained trying to save his little brother's life. He'd managed to avoid the majority of the avalanche, but had not been completely spared. He'd broken his leg, cracked at least three ribs and sustained a mild concussion.

Virgil wasn't sure he completely understood why John was so worried about Alan's predicament. That didn't mean he himself wasn't worried. He's do anything to change places with Alan to spare him from the ordeal. But John was hiding something; some deeper understanding, he supposed. Despite his injuries, John had cared about nothing else but Alan.

Virgil's instincts as a doctor made him reluctant to leave his brother in such a state. But John was stable and Virgil had work to do. He just hoped John knew what he was doing.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

By the time Virgil had surfaced in The Mole, Scott had formulated a plan. After conversing with Brains on the island, both had agreed the attempt would be their best hope in getting Alan out without causing another collapse. Unfortunately, their brother's life would come at the cost of another.

"Virgil, Base has given us the all clear. Bring out the Excavator," he ordered through the radio. He received an affirmative.

The Excavator had not been officially named, as it had only just been introduced into the wide range of rescue vehicles, but its name suited its purpose. Compared to The Mole, it was a relatively small machine, resembling a red beetle, with a heavy duty jaws on the front. Between the jaws was a large cylinder covered in metal spikes used to gather loose rubble and rid it from the area. Behind that was a drill equipped to create a hole of such as size that wouldn't compromise the stability of the area.

It was their little brother's only chance.

"Alan, listen closely to what I have to say," Scott instructed. "A hole is going to be drilled from the outside that will be big enough for you to fit through. When I give the word, I want you to dive under the water. The current will pull you out. Do you understand?"

"What about Brian?" asked Alan.

Scott paused. He couldn't teach his sibling about failure any harsher than he was about to. "The casualty's injuries mean that we can't get him out. I'm sorry Alan. Even if we could get in to secure him, he wouldn't stand much of a chance of surviving the process," he said, gently.

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, before his brother's wobbling voice replied. "I understand."

"Good man," Scott murmured into the feed.

To his right he could hear the Excavator approaching. "Standby, Alan."

"FAB" was Alan's shaky reply.

"Excavator to Mobile Control, I'm approaching the site. I got John to the sickbay and for now he's stable," Virgil reported, unbeknownst to Alan's presence on the line.

Scott cursed.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Virgil wanted to bang his head against the control panel. Sticking his own foot into his mouth was too easy for him, it seemed.

"John? Stable? What are you talking about? What's going on?" Alan asked.

Scott tried to regain a handle on the situation. "Alan, John is going to be fine. You need to focus," he said.

Alan was obviously having none of it. "Scott, you said he was okay! What's wrong with him?" Alan cried.

Virgil replied as professionally as he could manage. "Broken tibia, possibly some cracked ribs and a mild concussion. But he'll be-"

"You lied to me!" Alan cut him off. "You said he was okay, but now you're saying he's hurt! It all my...my..."

Strangled gasps came through the radio, snapping Virgil into action. "Alan, listen to my voice. Calm down. Take deep breaths!"

"Come on, sprout. Focus," Scott encouraged.

Virgil frowned. This was very unusual. The situation would cause any normal person to be terrified, but Alan rarely ever freaked out. He'd heard from his brothers and, to an extent, seen what could happen on rescue missions enough to know what was expected of him on the field. But something was wrong.

_I have a feeling something else is going on here. Could this be what John was worrying about? Surely his accident isn't still affecting him so much?_ Virgil thought.

They all knew that Alan was still a little disturbed by what had happened, and quite naturally. But John, it seemed, had an eye for this sort of thing. Virgil could recognise physical symptoms, but emotion symptoms were John's speciality.

Gradually, Alan's panic subsided. "Just get me out," he pleaded.

"FAB, Alan. Commencing excavation," Virgil reported firmly.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

_How do you tell a man he is going to die?_

For once, Alan was not confident he could be a Thunderbird. His father had told him that saving so many people came at a cost. "You can't save everyone, Alan," he had said. It wasn't fair.

The water, thick with mud, continued to lazily swirl around him, as if it were playing with him. Like a shark circling its prey. Alan was now waist high, struggling to hold Brian's head above the slush.

"For the last time, boy," Brian gurgled. His breathing and ability to talk had become increasingly laboured over the last few minutes. But despite that he'd been determined to have his say on a few matters, including the matter of his own life. "You and I know this is the end of the line for me."

"Not yet it isn't. I'm not leaving you," Alan replied stubbornly. "There's always a chance," he added softly, trying to keep alive the hope the Thunderbirds made it their duty to give. "Tell me more about your family," he encouraged. "What does Jason want to do when he leaves school?"

Brian's pained face relaxed into a smile for a moment. "What do you think? He wants to join you boys. Flying up there, saving lives, doing what nobody else had the courage to do," he replied.

Alan remained grim despite the compliment. "Does it make any difference though, what we do? Someone almost managed to shut us down a while ago. He wanted revenge because we failed to save a life. If we can't save everyone, what's the point?" Alan found himself ranting.

"The point, son, is the hundreds of people still alive, with their families and friends, because of you. You're heroes because even when you fail, you carry on," Brian told him firmly, panting with the strain.

Alan took a deep breath to steady himself. The whole cavern seemed to be closing in around him. He was hot and sweaty despite the freezing water. His head spun. He knew he was scared. A few minutes ago he'd experienced his first ever panic attack. Fear was untameable, and that fact scared him even more.

Finally, Alan shook his head. "I'm no hero. I'm scared," he admitted.

"Son, even though I won't be getting out here, you've made the last moments in my life wonderful," Brian said. Tears ran down his face now, streaking through the dirt. Alan couldn't hold back his own.

"Just hang on," he encouraged, clinging to what he believed in. _There is always hope. We never give up. We'll get him out._

But hope couldn't stop the rising water, and soon Alan could not hold the man's head high enough. Brian began to splutter and cough as water ran over his face.

"No, come on!" Alan told him. "Just a few more minutes!"

Brian looked up at him resignedly.

"You have to get out," Alan pleaded. "You have to tell Jason that the Thunderbirds saved you."

Brian gave him a warm smile and placed his hand gently around Alan's, releasing Alan's grip on his head. Brian continued to hold his hand as his face disappeared beneath the water. Alan couldn't do anything but watch. After less than a minute, Brian's hand went limp.

Alan bent over and yelled to no one in particular. His whole body was shaking. The water continued to swirl mercilessly up to him, ready to devour another victim. The water was extremely cold and its blackness looked insanely inviting. Alan removed his helmet, feeling claustrophobic again. The chamber seemed much smaller than he remembered. He tried to stand but his knee, which he'd forgotten, painfully protested and gave way without warning. With a cry he lost his balanced and tumbled backwards into the water with a splash.

"Scott!" he cried, before realising his own stupidity. By removing his helmet, he'd lost his radio. Now his helmet floated a few feet away from him. Hastily Alan tried to grab it as it floated past. He grabbed it, but the movement caused him to fall further into a small crevice in the ground. The water now circled his chest. His knee throbbed angrily, causing him to grit his teeth. But he had made it. Reluctantly he pulled the helmet back on.

"Scott, come in," he called into the radio.

"Alan? What happened? I've been trying to reach you!" his older brother asked. He sounded annoyed, but Alan knew it was only out of protectiveness.

"I lost Brian," was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

There was a pause.

"Alan, I'm sorry," said Scott, a little more gently. "It's almost time. Virgil has cleared the rubble and is about to start drilling."

"Okay," Alan replied shakily. The water was freezing.

"Excavator to Mobile Control. Commencing drilling. Standby," Virgil announced.

"Alan, take a deep breath and dive on my word," Scott instructed.

Alan nodded; the water was up to his neck now. He thought of Brian; lying like a stone at the bottom of the murk. There was a grinding to his left, but he didn't comprehend it's meaning. _I could have saved him. Why didn't I save him? I was too focused on my fears. If I hadn't gotten scared..._

"Alan, dive!" called Scott.

Alan started, then realised what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, he submerged. The intensity of the current surprised him. He was pulled sideways, then backwards, catching something hard on his back on the way out. Then suddenly the force was ten times greater, slamming what air he had left from his lungs. His helmet was ripped off his head. There was a bright light. He was flipped over and landed hard. Then it was over. He was floating on his back for hours, it felt. He tried opening his eyes, but he couldn't see very well. He didn't even realise someone was with him until his face was clamped between two strong hands. That kicked-started other sensors into action and he began to cough up what water had found it's way into him. He began to shiver again and his back and knee throbbed.

"It's okay, Alan. I've got you."

Alan frowned. "Virgil?" he tried to ask, only to spur another coughing fit.

Virgil hushed him and placed a mask over his face. "I've got you, kiddo."

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

An image Virgil would not forget was the one of his little brother being tossed out of the hole like a ragdoll. By then he had cleared away the Excavator enough to avoid being flooded. He could not move until the water flow had slowed. All that while he could no longer see Alan.

Once he had finally been given the go ahead by Scott to enter the scene, he jumped out and scanned the area. It wasn't long before he found Alan floating on his back. His eyes were 

closed and his face wore a pained expression. Virgil waded into the water to waist height and held his brother firmly under the shoulders, pulling him out.

Once on dry land, Virgil knelt over Alan. "Alan, open your eyes," he said.

It appeared Alan was trying, but then suddenly he began to cough up brown water. Virgil tried to stop him from moving too much.

"Come on, sprout, get it out," he encouraged. A quick scan told him that Alan was beginning to go into shock. His little brother began shaking intensely. "It's okay, Alan. I've got you," he said.

Alan opened his eyes, but struggled to focus on him. He tried speaking before he was overcome by coughing.

Reaching into the medical bag that rarely left his side on missions, Virgil held a portable oxygen mask over Alan's face. "Just breathe, sprout."

Virgil smiled sympathetically at his little brother, who was sinking into unconsciousness. Alan's eyes did not stay open for long. But what shone through those blue orbs before they closed was something Virgil would never forget.

It was agonising despair.


End file.
